


come home soon. it’s alright, I’ll wait.

by kay_okay



Series: 8-bit fiction prompts [2]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Airports, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Goodbyes, Hugs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 04:43:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5652880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_okay/pseuds/kay_okay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unfortunately in situations like that, Phil could write the book on Dan repressing his feelings and what every little tick and twitch in his face means, so he knows right now Dan’s really, really upset. And he knows it within about three seconds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	come home soon. it’s alright, I’ll wait.

**Author's Note:**

> a prompt from 8-bit fiction: http://8bitfiction.com/post/133652717550 -- "come home soon. it's alright, I'll wait."
> 
> mild warning for swearing but I honestly didn't feel like it was worth it to change the rating for a few words. 
> 
> this is a work of fiction. this is a fictional story about fictional representations of real people. none of the events are true. no profit was made from this work. unbetaed, all mistakes are my own.

“Did you get my laptop bag from the front seat?”

Phil’s walking forward but his head’s glancing back, simultaneously hitching his shoulder bag up a little and pushing his black frames up the bridge of his nose. Dan holds it up. “Yup.”

When Phil checks his phone and sees it’s not as late as he thought, he slows his walk to fall into step next to Dan. “I had this moment of sheer panic where I thought I’d left it in that cab.” He clutches his chest and Dan laughs.

“I don’t know, Alan seemed like a good guy in the twenty minutes we had to get to know him. At least top ten best cab drivers I’ve ever had. I’m sure he’d have come back to give it to you.”

“Did you grab my phone charger from the bedroom?”

“Yeah,” Dan pats the side of the laptop bag, “I put it in here with the wall plug, too.”

“Thanks,” Phil looks over, and Dan nods. He’s sure the smile looks forced on his face, which would be an absolutely accurate assumption.

The security barricade appears out of nowhere, way faster than Dan was expecting it. Though they made it on time, they aren’t exactly early, so Phil should really be going to his gate. 

As it usually happens, they somehow find themselves moving in tandem as they both slow to a stop, and turn to face each other. It’s clear this is where everyone separates. Travelers move on and loved ones stay behind. Around him, Dan counts five couples just in his view that are having their own tearful goodbyes, and he can’t quite bring himself to look up into Phil’s eyes.

“So, uh --”

“I --”

He looks up automatically then, wishing immediately he hadn’t. Phil’s eyes are bright and round, impossibly blue(-y green and yellow, _there’s actually yellow there_ ), and fuck, now Dan can’t look away.

“You go.”

“I uh, was just going to tell you to call me when you landed. Okay? Like, don’t be that guy that immediately pulls out their cell phone when you’re taxiing up to the gate, that’s so annoying, wait until you’re off the plane. But otherwise I’ll worry. You know I worry,” he babbles. Phil grins, his cheeks pink.

“I will. Of course I will.”

Dan wants to fill the silence with something, anything, but everything he can think of seems trite. Inadequate phrases like “I’ll miss you” don’t come close to what he’s feeling, but he’s not trying to go full Shakespearean sonnet either, even though that does sometimes fit his level of dramatics pretty much to a T. Sometimes in stressful social situations Dan does neither, just grins and bears it and tries to mask the feelings under talking a mile a minute about generally awkward conversation topics, hoping his acting skills are still up to par and the other person is none the wiser. 

Unfortunately in situations like that, Phil could write the book on Dan repressing his feelings and what every little tick and twitch in his face means, so he knows right now Dan’s really, really upset. And he knows it within about three seconds.

“Dan --” he starts.

“This is silly, we’ve done this a million times, why is it so difficult now?” Dan says it quietly enough that only Phil can hear him, but as the words leave his mouth, he’s not sure he truly meant to say them out loud. 

Phil steps in a little closer, not too close but enough to lightly bump the back of his knuckles across Dan’s downturned chin. “Us leaving each other so many times throughout these years doesn’t make it easier. If anything, I feel like it makes it harder.”

Dan wants to kiss Phil then, not just for the act of kissing him but just because it’d push him that extra foot closer. And that doesn’t sound like very far but it feels like they’re already fucking _oceans_ apart right now and they’re not, they’re breathing the same air, really. But even though they’re kind of off to the side and no one’s paying attention to them, they’re in a crowded airport and it’s the kind of situation where people aren’t directly staring but Dan feels like it, always does in these kinds of places. Quietly on display Phil called it once, hidden out in the open. Not really alone and not the center of attention. He loves his work but right now is one of the moments the whole double life thing seems really, really exhausting.

“It’ll go fast,” Phil’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts, “We’ll Facetime every night when I’m going to bed and you’re waking up.”

“You know this will require me to wake up incredibly early, right? Like, incredibly. Literally before the sun comes up, I’ll be up.” Dan puts his hands on his hips, indignant.

“I’m so lucky you’re willing to wake up before the sun to show me how much you love me.” Phil ducks his eyes to catch Dan’s.

“You really are,” Dan agrees cheekily, folding his arms across his chest.

“I really am.”

But Phil’s voice has changed and he’s honest now. And if anybody’s lucky, it’s Dan. So he decides to just fuck the crowd and puts his arms around Phil’s shoulders, closes the distance between them finally and just hangs on for a few seconds. He feels Phil tense up just briefly before he winds his arms around Dan’s waist.

“Love you,” Phil can say now that it’s just them in the terminal, “So much.”

And God, does it take all the strength inside Dan to not let that be the tipping point that cracks his exterior, so he just grips a little tighter, presses his eyes down into Phil’s shoulder, “I love you,” breathed into the collar of Phil’s jacket. “Come home soon.”

They pull away quickly, and it takes a minute for Dan to talk around the feeling of his throat closing up. “Have I mentioned Florida is an awful place and I hate it? If you decide you hate it too, you can always turn around.”

Phil chuckles, pushes his glasses back up again. “I know that’s a standing offer every time I go there.”

Dan leans in again, this time to pull the laptop bag off his chest and lay across Phil’s, diagonally so it bumps against Phil’s hip. “Charger in there, don’t forget.”

Phil nods, and it’s the loudspeaker announcement that Phil’s flight is boarding that puts his feet in motion. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Fly safe, okay?”

“Okay.”

Dan watches, arms pulled around his lanky frame, as Phil goes through security, laughing out loud as they pick him to go through the X-ray machine not once or twice, but three times. Phil finally makes it to the escalator and as he boards it he turns around to look at Dan, shrugging his shoulders and holding up his arms all like, _can you believe it?_ He watches until Phil gets off the stairs, one last wave as he departs from sight. 

Unsurprisingly, Dan absolutely can believe it. But he just chuckles to himself as he pushes out the doors to hail a cab at the curb. Once they’re on the highway, Dan watches the planes landing and taking off from the window until he can’t see them anymore.

He’s anxious to get home.


End file.
